


objector overcome

by sinequanon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Reincarnation, Spells & Enchantments, Unreasonable Jerk Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 07:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: Deaton's niece Bonnie comes to visit. A misunderstanding, an argument, and an accident later, Derek is heartbroken and the Original family is being haunted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older fic, and was only lightly edited, so let me know if you find any glaring errors.
> 
> Also, I have created a new tag to be used and enjoyed: "unreasonable jerk syndrome", for when a character (in this case, Derek) is being a jackass for no good reason and deserves to be whacked upside the head.
> 
> (This fic contains pieces of dialogue from multiple episodes of TW.)

"Are you sure that this is going to work?" Stiles asked dubiously, casting a nervous glance in Isaac's direction. Sure, he was sort of curious about any long-lost Polish cousins he might have, but he didn't want to do it if it was going to turn out like the last couple of spells they had tried. "If you haven't noticed, I don't have a very good track record of success with your gram's spells."

"This one is harmless, Stiles," Bonnie assured him. "It's as easy as scrying, but on a wider scale. We’re just hunting for information.”

Isaac, who had put up with a lot of strange smells and loud noises over the last few days, just shrugged. He was here to support Stiles since the rest of the pack was being stupid, and he was actually having a good time, despite a few near misses with backfired spells. "What exactly is supposed to happen?"

"I've never done it personally, but it connects the caster to lost family," she replied as she finished setting up. "So, if Stiles's mom has any relatives he doesn't know about, this will show him how to find them. Shall we?"

<> <>

"She's a witch!"

Stiles sighed, feeling drained and so tired of the conversation, although that might have also had to do with the concussion he undoubtedly had from being thrown against the wall. Stiles mentally cursed Deaton for thinking that Stiles was skilled enough to work with Bonnie before he focused once more on Derek and his seeming obliviousness. Yes, Bonnie was a witch; everyone knew that already.

Except Derek, evidently. This was not going to go well.

Stiles inched to the right, further blocking his new friend from Derek's view. "She hasn't done anything wrong."

"She tried to kill Isaac," the alpha growled. The others shifted behind Derek uneasily, unsure of who to support. Stiles was the level-headed one, and common sense told them that he wouldn't have been helping this girl if she had done something wrong. They had seen what had happened to to Isaac, though, so seeing him defend her was incredibly confusing.

"Stiles," Derek's eyes were glowing brightly as his words took on a distinctly condescending tone, "if she's hurting you somehow I can help you, just _give her to me_."

And that, Stiles could not do; especially with Derek in this particular frame of mind.

All at once, Derek rushed forward, and Stiles instinctively raised his hands to protect himself--

And then Derek was on the ground, repelled by a pulse of magic, the concern in his eyes slowly morphing to anger when Stiles still refused to move. In the alpha’s mind, the evil witch was gone, and Stiles had helped her escape.

Stiles watched as Derek's gaze hardened. "I don't ever want to see you again," he spat at Stiles.

"Derek," Boyd cautioned, his deep voice echoing through the clearing while the others looked on with slack faces. “Don't do anything rash.”

"He made his choice. I don't ever want to see you again," the alpha repeated, eyes never leaving Stiles.

Stiles could only watch hollowly as his former pack walked away from him.

<> <>

Isaac came awake slowly, his head pounding. Stiles and Bonnie had been doing some intense "magical chemistry" as Stiles called it, trying that new locator spell, when--

The explosion flashed through his mind. He remembered pushing his friends out of the way, the flash of pain, Stiles calling his name--

He opened his eyes, searching frantically for the witches. "Bonnie? Stiles?"

"She can't hurt you anymore, Isaac." Isaac turned to find Scott watching him, a sad but determined expression on his face. Derek sat next to him with his usual sour look.

Isaac stared at his friend, confused. "Hurt me?"

"She got away," Scott continued, crawling up onto the bed with him, "Stiles was helping her."

"Who, Bonnie?"

"Is that the witch's name?"

"Yes," Isaac said slowly, pushing himself upright as he frowned at his visitors. "You would know that if anyone paid attention at pack meetings anymore." It was true. More often than not, in the last few months, the pack had spent meeting time flirting and gossiping rather than sharing useful information. "Stiles mentioned weeks ago that Deaton's niece Bonnie was coming to help him study magic. Remember?" he prompted, though he could tell by the looks on their faces that they didn't.

This time, it was Scott who looked confused. "Then why did she hurt you?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Bonnie didn’t hurt me, the spell misfired in its usual spectacular fashion. I'm starting to think that Stiles should just give it up before he accidentally kills himself.” Isaac watched the color drain from Derek's face until he looked as sick as Isaac felt at that moment. "Derek, where’s Stiles?"

<> <>

Stiles was pissed. After all that they had been through together, after all the help that he had given them, the pack had so readily assumed that he would betray them? His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Hopefully, Bonnie had gotten herself to Deaton's and he would see her after he stopped to pick up the food for his dad.

He knew that Isaac would set Derek straight once he woke up, but Stiles wasn't sure he was willing to forgive his boyfriend for his harsh words, at least not right away.

He felt a little better thinking about all of the ways he could torture Derek as he got the food and got back on the road toward the station. Sure, most of his ideas were illegal, but it wasn't like he was going to do them anyway. Stiles had thought that Derek knew that Stiles would never hurt him, but maybe the alpha’s insecurities ran even deeper than he suspected. Damn it, he was--

Stiles didn't notice the truck until it was too late, and it smashed into the side of the jeep with a deafening crunch. Stiles had a second to bemoan the fact that his dad would definitely eat fast food for dinner without his son there to watch him, and then everything went black.

<> <>

In New Orleans, Klaus Mikaelson shot up in bed, a scream in his throat and the sound of screeching metal in his ears.

<> <>

Derek called a pack meeting almost immediately after Isaac woke up, mostly because the blonde kept pressuring him to clear the air. Everyone was on edge, and the sooner Derek fixed his mistake the better.

(Assuming Stiles would let him, that is. Unlike Scott, Stiles could hold a grudge like nobody's business.)

All that had happened so far was a bunch of awkward pacing and sideways looks between pack members, everyone waiting for the alpha to make the first move.

Thankfully, Scott's phone rang, breaking the tension. "Mom?" Scott was all too grateful for the rescue from the impromptu pack meeting that Derek had called after Isaac had told them about the witch. Bonnie. Who had been there to help Stiles.

And Stiles, who was obviously angry, wasn't returning any of their calls or texts.

"Scott?" his mom's voice sounded thick, like she had been crying, and it immediately put him on edge. She took a shaky breath, and Scott tensed, fighting the sudden urge to sit down. "You need to get to the hospital. It's Stiles."

Scott could tell by the silence in the room that everyone had been listening in, which he was grateful for--he didn't have to tell them the situation. Scott simply turned around and walked out the door. He couldn't get the hospital fast enough.

<> <>

 _I don't ever want to see you again_.

No one said anything, but Derek knew that those words--his words--were running through everyone's minds as they sat in the hospital. The last words he'd ever said to Stiles. The fact that they might be the last words he'd ever _get_ to say to Stiles was a heavy weight on his chest. He hadn't meant them, but Stiles didn't know that. Derek bit back a sob, afraid to look anyone in the eye, and leaned tiredly against his sister's shoulder.

Stiles had been in surgery for hours, and the lack of information was making everyone anxious. They had promised to send a nurse out to give them updates, but the last message had been two hours ago, and very brief. All they really knew was that Stiles had been hit by a drunk driver and had sustained multiple injuries.

Eight hours after he had been rushed to the emergency room, the doctor came to deliver the news: Stiles had broken ribs, a fractured wrist, a collapsed lung, a severe concussion and a possible brain injury. It was possible, the doctor gravely informed the Sheriff, that Stiles might never wake up again.

Only Cora's hands on his wrists kept Derek from running out of the hospital.

<> <>

There was an apparition of a boy wandering the halls of the Mikaelson mansion. Rebekah had seen him twice, Elijah and Kol once, and, though he wouldn't admit it, Rebekah was quite sure that Niklaus had seen him too. The boy seemed to pay no notice to any of them at all, roaming listlessly through the house at all hours of the day as if he had no awareness of his surroundings. Freya had already tried to put the spirit to rest, to no avail; Kol's method of yelling and throwing things at the boy didn't work, either.

In a fit of desperation, Niklaus asked one of the elder witches in the city for advice. The witch, a rather sour woman, had wandered the mansion with her foul-smelling herbs before turning to the siblings and offering a bland, "You are not being haunted," and walking out the door. Davina was no help, and they phesitated to call Bonnie except in an emergency. Apart from a few startling moments, the boy was little problem, and after a few days of groaning about the situation, the siblings ultimately decided that they would just have to learn to ignore the haunting.

<> <>

"Stiles. Please wake up."

Mrs. McCall had finally convinced the Sheriff and Scott to go home and sleep, giving Derek a chance to sit with Stiles. Visiting hours were long over, but Derek stayed, gripping the other boy's hand tightly and taking any residual pain he might be feeling. Two weeks after the accident, they had finally removed the breathing tube, and his bones were slowly healing, but Stiles was no closer to waking up than he had been that first night when the alpha had crept in to see the other boy looking so pale and lifeless in the bed.

"I love you, and I'm so sorry. Please wake up."


	2. Chapter 2

Niklaus dreamed. Their apparition and another boy were running through a school at night, obviously being chased. The vampire could feel the pounding of the boy's heart and hear his harsh breathing as they evaded what seemed to be a gauche sort of werewolf, if the state of the creature's fur was any indication.

He watched as the two boys and the other children foolishly ran into what could only be a science classroom, his boy watching helplessly as the others dragged desks and stacked chairs in front of their only method of escape.

Klaus chuckled at the frustration the boy obviously felt at dealing with such stupid people.

_"Can we just wait a second? You guys, listen to me. Guys? Can we hang on one second, please? Hello! Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone. Now, what should we do about the twenty foot wall of windows?"_

He woke with a start, disoriented for a moment as he recalled his dream. Perhaps this way how their apparition had died, mauled to death like poor Henrik? Perhaps no one had found his body, and that was why he was haunting them? Despite the dim picture he had seen, Klaus found himself hoping that the clever boy had survived past that encounter.

<> <>

Elijah was sitting in the library the next time he saw the boy. The vampire was casually reading, enjoying the respite from the drama that constantly surrounded his family, when he noticed movement, like a wisp of smoke, out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over to find the young man sitting in the chair by the fireplace, book in hand. He didn't seem to be reading, just idly flipping through pages, head bowed. He seemed paler than the last time Elijah had seen him, despite his proximity to the fire, and Elijah felt an unexpected pang of sadness.

He was on his feet almost without thinking, moving toward the boy with his arm outstretched. Before he reached him, however, the boy faded away.

<> <>

"You'll be happy to know that Isaac, Erica, and Boyd have set up a rotation to make sure I eat properly. The boys are pretty good cooks, actually. I was surprised when Mel told me that Derek Hale keeps sneaking in here after hours, so you'll have to explain that to me when you wake up,” Sheriff Stilinski spoke as he watched his unmoving son. "Lydia has put aside her plans for world domination until you get better, and Scott is almost as lost without you as I am. If he keeps skipping school he won't be able to graduate with you at the end of the year."

A month after the accident, Stiles was much better physically, but he still hadn't woken up. His first few days in the hospital were terrifying, and the Sheriff had been afraid to leave for fear that Stiles would slip away while he was gone. Not even the pack’s almost constant vigil had been a comfort to him. As time passed, Derek was there almost as much as the Sheriff himself, and Noah had become marginally better at leaving his son in someone else's care.

"I can't do this without you, kid; you have too much to live for. You need to wake up."

<> <>

_"No, no, no. Don't let them in. Don't let them in. No, don't let them in!"_

Another dream about the boy, Klaus thought wearily. If he _was_ dead, it was no wonder, what with all of the danger that seemed to stalk him. He was surprised (and a little impressed) that the boy had survived for as long as he had, based on the frequency in which he seemed to find himself in life-threatening situations.

At breakfast, he mentioned his latest dream to his siblings.

"The kid sure seems to get into a lot of trouble," Kol said fondly, thinking of his own childhood. "It's a shame something got to him; I think we'd get along pretty well."

"According to my research," Rebekah interjected, ignoring the incredulous looks around her, "he's not from the area. I've got some friends looking into who he might be, but if he belongs to one of the packs, they may be keeping his death a secret."

"You did research, sister? Really?"

"You may be dreaming about the boy, Niklaus, but I've seem him more than the rest of you," she paused, poking at her food. "He may look the same as always in dreams, but in person he's getting worse--sicker, more transparent. He's slipping away, somehow, and I want it to stop."

"As troubling as it may be, perhaps he is supposed to go," Elijah offered. He remembered the wisp of the boy he had first encountered in the library, looking as if he was barely tethered to the world. "As much as we may wish it otherwise."

"I don't believe that," she answered, "and neither do you."

<> <>

The Mikaelson siblings had all grown surprisingly attached to the specter wandering their hallways over the past six weeks, enough that the entire household was spending part of their time trying to solve the mystery of the boy's identity. Sightings happened often enough, though, that more than one vampire on the property had started giving the boy a polite greeting when they saw him, even if the ghost never acknowledged them in return.

Tonight, the Mikaelsons were holding a solstice party, and all of the city's supernatural elite would be in attendance. Underneath all of the glitz and glamour, Rebekah was worried. This was an excellent opportunity to ask everyone she could about their apparition, but she felt extremely reluctant to do so. What if someone gave them information that turned out to hurt him?

The fact that the boy seemed to be fading with time had made everyone even more protective of him, even as they tried to widen their search for information.

Rebekah could hear guests arriving downstairs, but rather than play the hostess, she decided to check on Hope, who would be staying upstairs that evening. Hope was remarkably sharp for a seven-year-old, and Rebekah wanted to make sure that the girl was suitably entertained before dragging herself to the party.

Surprisingly, her niece's door was closed; she tended to leave it open so that she keep an eye on everything that went on upstairs. Josh and Aiden had unfortunately learned that lesson the hard way, much to their embarrassment.

"You're supposed to pour the tea like this," Hope's voice sounded clearly through the door, along with the clink of dishes. "It's okay if you don't like the tea, though; it's some fancy stuff that Aunt Freya gave me."

Silence, then: "Do you like your tea, Uncle Stiles?"

Alarmed, Rebekah burst through the doorway to find Hope staring at her with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips. The apparition, looking ever more transparent next to the girl's radiance, didn't move from where he was seated across from her niece, but slowly faded from the room.

Rebekah felt that she could be forgiven for her momentary shock before her niece’s yelling brought her back to the present.

"How could you, Aunt Bekah? Who knows how long it will take to get him back!"

Fifteen minutes after the interrupted tea party found an emergency family meeting upstairs, with Marcel handling the festivities below.

"Does he talk to you?" Niklaus demanded, frustrated that his daughter had been keeping something like this from him. No one had even considered that Hope had been seeing the boy as well, and what that might mean. If she was having conversations with him--

Hope gave her father the same flat look that Rebekah used when she was annoyed with him. "No, Daddy,” she huffed. “But he feels scared and lonely, and so when I see him I tell him about my day and stuff so he doesn't disappear." She looked forlornly at the second teacup. "We can't let him disappear, Daddy."

"How do you know his name, sweetheart?"

Hope shrugged, unable to explain. She knew it in the same way she knew lots of things. She just knew that Stiles was important, and that he needed help. "You said family was the most important thing, right? So, we have to save Uncle Stiles."

"Why do you call him that? We don't have any more family," Elijah asked gently.

"It's like," the girl bit her lip in thought, "when Aunt Bekah had that other body, when she was trying to help Uncle Kol. It's kind of like that, but not the same." She looked at the others hopefully, willing them to understand.

Gia knocked a moment later, announcing dinner, and the adults reluctantly filed downstairs, setting the conversation aside for the moment.

“We’ll finish this later," Klaus announced, casting a stern look at his daughter. "For now, no more tea parties.”

<> <>

"There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers," Lydia read, "having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved." She finished with a sigh, setting the book on the side table and glancing at Stiles expectantly. She looked up briefly when Scott and Derek walked in before turning back to her friend and running her fingers through his hair.

"What were you reading?" Scott asked, taking up his spot on the other side of the bed.

" _The Origin of Species_. Stiles and I thought that it be useful while we're rewriting the bestiary. Since it's likely that he can hear us, and he's usually so busy, I thought we might as well finish it while he has the time."

Derek growled lowly, but Lydia ignored him. "Don't get snippy with me just because you made a mistake," she warned. "You better make it up to him when he wakes up."

"If he wakes up,” the werewolf whispered.

" _When_ he wakes up, Derek, you have a lot of groveling to do." Her eyes flicked to Scott, who was tightly clasping his best friend's hand. "You, too."

<> <>

Later that night, Klaus dreamed of Stiles. The boy was standing on the roof of a hospital, staring dispassionately over the edge. He looked pale and drawn, much like the apparition that wandered throughout his home.

"Stiles?"

The boy jumped in surprise at his voice and, before Klaus could stop it, slipped over the edge.

The hybrid had a split second to realize that Stiles's scream sounded just like Henrik's before the boy hit the ground with a thud.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott had just finished watching a movie with Stiles when the alpha noticed the catch in the other boy's breathing.

"Stiles? Stiles!" Scott panicked under the sudden onslaught of alarms as Stiles's body contorted and seized. Scott's vision tunneled and he gasped for breath, and he had the fleeting thought that he didn't even have asthma anymore before strong arms grabbed him and guided out into the hallway. He could hear yelling, and hearts racing, and it took a long time for him to recognize the sound of Derek's voice, telling him that everything was fine. Stiles was fine.

Scott leaned heavily against the other wolf, clutching at him like a lifeline. "He's been getting better," he sobbed into Derek's shirt, "He's getting better. I can't lose him."

"We won't lose him, Scott," Derek reassured the other boy, "he's strong enough to come back to us. We won't lose him."

Derek just hoped that the other boy _wanted_ to come back to them.

<> <>

"We need to call Bonnie."

"Why? Stiles isn't exactly a common name." Kol said, "We should be able to find the kid pretty easily now."

"I dreamt that Stiles died last night," Klaus said shortly, grateful that Hope was spending the next week with Hayley and was not around to spy on the conversation. "If he _is_ dead, I want to ask Bonnie to bring him back."

His brother nodded. "Call her."

Bonnie was surprised to hear from them, but agreed to come to New Orleans as soon as she was finished visiting a sick friend in California. She had heard through the grapevine that the Mikaelsons were hosting a specter of some sort that refused to leave, and she looked forward to trying her hand at exorcising the visitor.

(Although, the rumor mill also suggested that the Original family wasn't trying to get rid of the spirit at all. Bonnie would have to figure out what that was all about, because it was very much unlike them.)

"You may have heard that we have an unintended guest," Elijah began. "We need your assistance in...helping him."

"You need me to do an exorcism?"

"No. Truthfully, we are quite fond of the boy. Hope says that we must help him, and that he is somehow connected to us."

"I believe so as well,” Klaus chimed in.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Bonnie asked carefully.

"A few nights ago," the hybrid explained, "I dreamt of the boy's death. If he truly is dead, we want to resurrect him."

"Okay," Bonnie said slowly, "who is he?"

"All we know is that his first name is Stiles,” Kol offered with a scowl, obviously irritated with the lack of additional information.

Bonnie stared at them for a long moment, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. Her gaze went from Klaus, to Elijah to Rebekah to Kol to Freya, and back to Klaus. "Are you serious?"

"Bonnie, what's wrong?" Elijah asked, moving to guide her into a seat. She smiled gratefully at him before turning back to the group at large.

"Stiles isn't dead,” she announced firmly, surprising everyone in the room. “He's the friend I was visiting in California. How do you guys know him?"

"I think he's Henrik,” Klaus announced into the sudden quiet of Bonnie's revelation.

Bonnie was stunned, but the response from the rest of the siblings was explosive. Evidently, Klaus hadn't shared his theory with the others. Only Freya, who had never met Henrik, was unmoved.

"You think our reincarnated brother has been reaching out to us?" Kol questioned, a little louder than necessary.

"Considering everything we've been through, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch," Rebekah offered slowly.

Bonnie understood Kol's skepticism. If she didn't know what Stiles was capable of, she probably wouldn't believe it either. "A few weeks ago, my Uncle Alan asked me to visit and help Stiles with his magic; it was mostly a disaster. We couldn't figure out why, because he's very powerful. The last spell he tried was a locator spell, to find lost relatives of his mom's in Poland."

"You think he found us instead,” Elijah guessed.

"That's just it--we thought the spell had failed. The room literally exploded when we cast it. Later that day, he was in a car accident, and he hasn't woken up since."

<> <>

It was late evening by the time the Mikaelsons and Bonnie made it to Beacon Hills, and Bonnie insisted that they check in with her uncle before going to see Stiles. They would not, she insisted, simply break into the hospital and compel any obstacles away.

Her uncle was awake, despite the late hour, and invited everyone in without hesitation. "Bonnie, it's good to see you again. But what business does the Original family have in Beacon Hills?"

"You know who we are?"

"I do,” he said simply. Then he hesitated. “The pack is not...available to guests at the moment."

"They don't want to see the pack,” the witch admitted, “they just want to see Stiles."

Deaton raised his brows at that. "Oh?" Anything that could help the boy survive would be a blessing, in his opinion. Although, with the way Scott and Derek had stationed themselves in Stiles's hospital room, it was likely that the Mikaelsons would be dealing with the pack regardless of their original intentions. "You intend to heal him, then?"

Klaus could definitely see the Bennett family resemblance in the stubborn set of the man's jaw as he watched them, his expression giving nothing away. "We do."

"I'm glad to hear it. Mr. Stilinski is a remarkable young man; he deserves a good turn of luck."

"Don't worry, we'll visit the Sheriff first and get his permission before we do anything. Especially considering," Bonnie interjected, glaring at Kol's noise of protest, "the man was very kind to me the last time I was here." That gave the Originals pause: they knew the difficulty that Bonnie had faced getting the adults in her life to accept her. That this near stranger had done it was a testament to his character.

Of course, this was also the man who had raised their brother.

The plan for telling the Sheriff was simple: they were going to let Bonnie do the hard part. She would explain the situation and convince the man that the Mikaelsons meant no harm, and then they would save Stiles.

The first thing that Bonnie did when the Sheriff answered his door for them the next morning was pull the man into the tightest hug she could manage. She ignored the circles under his eyes, the new lines worn into his face, and squeezed like she was trying to push all of the sadness out of him. "I'm so sorry that this happened," she said as soon as they pulled apart, and Bonnie pretended not to notice the Sheriff wiping his eyes.

The man's gaze moved to the doorway where the Mikaelsons were doing an excellent job of looking like they were waiting patiently.

"Hello, Sir," Elijah said politely, "may we come in?"

Noah inclined his head briefly, no doubt noticing their inability to cross the threshold, before inviting them inside. The house was surprisingly clean--more tidy than it usually was between the Sheriff and Stiles--and Bonnie suspected that the pack might have had something to do with that.

The Mikaelsons took their cues from the Sheriff, and the vampires had to sit through a few minutes of idle chat between the man and Bonnie before he turned to them. "Now that everyone is settled, what business do you have with my son?"

"What do you know about vampires?"

<> <>

As it turned out, Sheriff Stilinski knew quite a lot about vampires, mostly due to the study materials that Stiles had put together for him when the nemeton became active again. Noah was seemingly unfazed by their presence, but rightly wary of them both as strangers and as supernaturals.

Thankfully, it took less time than expected to get the man to consider letting any of them near his son, although his reservations were clear. "You will not be turning my son into a vampire."

"Not intentionally, no," Elijah answered honestly. The Sheriff looked less than pleased with that answer..

"The blood should heal him," Rebekah soothed. She had been moving closer to the man over the course of the conversation, and he had allowed it. "But if he dies with our blood in his system, he'll turn into a vampire."

"How will that affect his relationships in the pack?"

"It shouldn't, assuming none of them are asses about it," Bonnie said, offering Stiles's dad a wry smile. She shrugged off the vampires' curious gazes, though, unwilling to talk about Stiles's relationship with the alpha or delve any further into her friend’s personal life. She wasn't even sure that the Sheriff had known about it before the accident, considering some of the sly comments Isaac had made while they were hanging out together, and Stiles's relationships were none of her business.

(She'd let Derek navigate that particular minefield on his own. She was still kind of mad at him, anyway.)

<> <>

That night, long past visiting hours, Bonnie and the Mikaelsons arrived at the hospital. Mrs. McCall was on duty, and had promised to do her best to keep anyone from interrupting them. Bonnie expected Derek and Scott to be there, even though no one had invited them.

In fact, it seemed that all of the wolves had abandoned all pretense of obeying hospital rules, because eight people were waiting when the group arrived. Bonnie had a few seconds to thank the universe that Stiles had a private room before the snarling started.

Bonnie moved to jump in between the two groups when a voice cut through the noise. "Are you all stupid?" Lydia hissed, moving to stand with Bonnie. She pinned the wolves with a glare. "If they can help Stiles, we will let them, and we will be _happy_ to do so." She swiveled to the other group. "And you, coming into a contested territory without notice is extremely bad form."

"We apologize," Klaus said easily, though Bonnie noticed that he didn't look the least bit apologetic, "we assumed that the urgency of the situation trumped courtesy."

The two groups eyed each other until Bonnie was sure that everything would end in bloodshed, good intentions or no, until the tension unexpectedly broke.

Scott, of course, was the one to offer the proverbial olive branch by introducing himself and coaxing introductions out of the others in turn, and maneuvered his pack so that the Mikaelsons could get their first true glance at Stiles. "This is Stiles. If what Deaton says is true, and you really are his family, then you should know that he's my best friend in the world, and if you hurt him, I'll find a way to kill you."

Derek was less accepting. He watched the Mikaelsons with suspicion, never letting go of Stiles's hand. "What if he becomes a vampire?"

Lydia scoffed. "If you stop loving Stiles just because he's a vampire then you're a moron and you--"

"That's not what I mean," Derek interrupted. His distress was palpable as he stared at the Original family. "I know that the Sheriff wouldn't have sent you if you couldn't help him. Assuming that Stiles still...wants to see me after this, will I be allowed to see him? Will the rest of the pack?"

Freya could see Niklaus tensing to respond and slipped her arm through his, soothing him before she turned to the others. "Of course," she reassured the group.

The relief that swept through the pack was obvious in the sudden slump of their shoulders.

"Just because Stiles may have once been our brother does not make him any less yours," she reminded them gently. She could feel her siblings getting anxious, but she ignored them. These children deserved to understand what was happening to their friend. "The love between you does not vanish simply because past bonds are renewed. Does that put your mind at ease?"

The alpha watched her for a moment before visibly shuddering with relief. Without thinking, the witch stepped forward and embraced him, "Love is the strongest thing. Don't be afraid."

A few moments later, everyone watched anxiously as Elijah managed to get a bit of his blood down Stiles's throat. The wolves twitched at every sound in the hospital, but they watched Stiles with a laser focus that impressed even Niklaus. Tensions were high, but the looks the young adults shot the Mikaelsons were a mix of awe and hope that the family had never had directed toward them, and filled them with a kind of tentative happiness.

<> <>

Stiles had three guests when he opened his eyes: one dark-haired, broody alpha werewolf; one puppy-eyed best friend; and a smirking blond guy that seemed strangely familiar.

Scott caught his eye and immediately answered the most important question. "Your dad's at work. Erica is shadowing him and no doubt terrorizing the department."

"Can I get some water?" His mouth felt like sandpaper, and he gratefully took the cup that Scott offered. That done, he turned to Derek with a resigned sigh. "Look, Derek--"

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek didn't give the other boy a chance to continue before he covered Stiles's lips with his own.

Stiles absolutely did not meep in shock at the kiss, or at the feel of Derek's hand around his neck. He did, however, lean in a little, and he let himself sink into the feeling of contentedness he felt around the wolf in case the idiot was trying to say goodbye. "Derek--"

"I love you so much, Stiles," he said fiercely. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

Stiles shook off some remaining sleepiness and smirked at the novelty that was contrite Derek. "You have so much groveling to do, buddy."

The alpha kissed him again until Scott started making gagging noises, and someone else cleared their throat.

Stiles suddenly remembered blonde guy, who was looking at Derek like he wanted to gut him and do unmentionable things to his entrails. Stiles held Derek's hand a little tighter.

Then the guy turned to Stiles, and Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat and his stomach flip. "Hi. I feel like...do I know you? Have we met before?"

"My name is Klaus Mikaelson." The man offered Stiles a charming smile that the other boy couldn't help but return. "My siblings and I answered your call for family."

"Oh, cool. Are you Polish?"

"No, I'm a vampire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this was supposed to be the end of this story, and I was going to write a second part where Derek groveled and Stiles won over the hearts of everyone in New Orleans. Unfortunately, this story finished when my interest in writing Derek/Stiles was waning, so it never happened. This story also falls into what I like to call "The Fluffy Paradox", wherein once I get through the angsty part of a story and only happy stuff is left, my brain goes, "yeah, we're done here", and moves on to something new.
> 
> Chapter four is a tiny epilogue to this fic that shows a little bit of how the second part might have gone. (For reference, it is also about the size of the extras I'm writing for various stories.)
> 
> If you plan to stop here, thank you for reading, and if not, I'll see you after the epilogue!


	4. Chapter 4

The apparition had evidently come back a couple of nights ago, though no one had gotten close enough to it to have any sort of interaction with the ghost. The Mikaelsons were back, too, and the fact that even Niklaus seemed to be in a good mood was leaving everyone a bit flustered.

In short, the return of the boy was a welcome distraction.

Josh and Aiden had just spent the last half-hour hiding in a dark corner, only to emerge a few feet from the ghost, who was moving in their direction.

He looked much better than he had right before the Mikaelsons left, so whatever the family had done had been good for him. He practically looked solid enough to be alive.

“Hey, kid.” Josh offered a casual wave as the boy drew next to them, expecting the specter to look right through him and carry on. Instead, the boy half-turned and gave them a smile.

“Hey.”

That brought both men up short, and Aiden would forever deny that he jumped a little when Stiles spoke. What exactly had the Originals _done_ while they were away?

“Excuse me,” Aiden asked, even while Josh stood stupefied, “If you don't mind me asking, who are you? And why are you here?”

The boy seemed surprised at the question for a moment, only for a knowing look to cross his face. He offered them a small nod and a grin. “I'm Stiles. I forgot that you don't really know me, even though Rebekah said that everyone’s been seeing me wandering around for a while now.” His face scrunched in irritation before he added, “Not that I can really complain, because I wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders at the time.”

“I'm sorry?” Aiden was utterly confused, and a quick look at Josh yielded no answers, either. At least the werewolf didn't look quite so shocked anymore. “It's just odd to hear you speak; you never answered before when anyone spoke to you.”

Stiles's grin grew a bit wider. “Sorry about that, but I don't really remember; I was mostly dead at the time. Evidently, I'm the reincarnation of the Mikaelson’s little brother Henrik, and I reached out to them while I was in a coma because I did some ancestor-finding spell that was supposed to connect me with my long-lost Polish relatives, except I found Original vampires instead. Crazy, right?” He glanced around exaggeratedly and dropped his voice. “Honestly, I'm kind of surprised I don't have bodyguards following me around or something.”

“That can be arranged,” Klaus drawled, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Stiles whipped around so fast he almost tripped over his own feet. “Will you stop scaring the crap out of me every twenty minutes? I just wanted a sandwich!”

“Elijah will be returning with food shortly, and you're still not entirely recovered from your ordeal.” Klaus smirked, but the other men caught the dark look the hybrid shot in their direction. “There will be time for terrorizing the masses later.”

The human huffed out a sigh, but let Klaus take his elbow and direct him away from the confused couple. “For a crazy scary hybrid, you sure are a mother hen.”

“I'll thank you to keep such opinions to yourself.”

“You know you love me.”

The brothers were moving steadily down the hallway, but Aiden still heard Klaus’s answer.

“Yes, we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this story comes from the poem "Conscientious Objector" by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
> 
> Next week: The only thing I have scheduled to post next week is the second chapter of my Bleach fic, but I feel guilty when I don't post for TW, so it's entirely possible that I'll post something else, too.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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